King's Landing

The Crownlands, on a rise outside King's Landing.

Gary and Arya sat astride their warhorses at the top of the rise, gazing at King's Landing in the distance.

King's Landing stood beside the sea on the eastern coast of Westeros and was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. It covered more than ten times the area of Winterfell, with fairly densely packed buildings.

An almost square circuit of walls surrounded it, with seven gates in all. The city was also densely populated, with nearly half a million people living there.

"Wow, what a huge city!"

Arya could not help exclaiming. It was the first city this large she had seen on their journey, far bigger than Winterfell!

Gary nodded in satisfaction. "Worthy of being the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Its size certainly hasn't disappointed me."

The two lingered a little longer to admire the view before riding down the slope and heading leisurely toward King's Landing.

The gate on the northern side of King's Landing was called the Old Gate.

Gary and Arya had followed the Kingsroad south all the way, bringing them straight to this gate.

As they approached King's Landing, they discovered a different sort of scenery.

Perhaps because it was the capital, many impoverished families had gathered outside King's Landing. Dressed in rags and without enough to eat, they lived in makeshift tents, struggling to survive.

Gary sighed. How could he not yearn for the extravagant, wasteful lives of the nobility? Yet how could his heart not ache at the sight of these displaced commoners, all skin and bones, their clothes barely covering them?

But he was not a ruler. The survival or destruction of this kingdom had little to do with him.

The two rode slowly past these people and reached the gate.

"Halt! Dismount for inspection."

Gary alone dismounted, leaving Arya on her horse.

A city guard approached Gary and looked him up and down. Seeing his respectable clothing and distinguished bearing, he asked, "Are you a nobleman, sir?"

"I haven't been granted a title," Gary replied evenly.

The guard asked again, "Then do you have papers permitting you to enter?"

These entry papers were simply letters of recommendation from nobles around the realm.

Gary knew nothing about entry papers. He frowned and asked, "You can't enter the city without papers?"

A trace of contempt appeared in the guard's eyes. "Of course not. Without papers to prove where you come from, how could we possibly let you in?"

Gary was speechless. He explained, "I come from Winterfell, and this is the younger daughter of the Lord of Winterfell. We've come to King's Landing specifically to see His Majesty the King and discuss an important matter."

The guard curled his lip. Who are you trying to fool? From Winterfell? That's some remote corner at the northernmost end of the continent, somewhere even traveling merchants don't want to go.

He held out his hand to Gary. "You need papers. None of what you said matters."

Looking at the hand the guard still had not withdrawn, Gary immediately understood. He took a Silver Stag from his purse and tossed it into the guard's hand.

The guard eyed the purse at Gary's waist greedily, his hand still outstretched.

Gary sneered. "Don't get greedy. You can't afford the consequences of offending House Stark!"

For this man to serve as a guard in King's Landing, he presumably came from a noble family himself. He could not possibly have never heard of House Stark in the North.

With Gary repeatedly mentioning House Stark, the guard began to believe him somewhat. He withdrew his hand and said loudly, "Go on in. No riding inside the city, and remember to behave yourselves. If you commit a crime, we'll arrest you just the same!"

A childish threat. Gary paid this petty figure no more attention and strolled into King's Landing, leading his horse.

Inside King's Landing.

Not long after entering the city, Gary and Arya caught an indescribable stench.

It hit them head-on, lingering relentlessly, impossible to keep out.

"It stinks!" Arya dry-heaved a few times and waved her hand in disgust.

This "refreshing" stench was like a mixture of sour rot and decomposing corpses, unbearably pungent.

Gary covered his mouth and nose as well, his steps quickening involuntarily.

Their first task after entering the city was to find somewhere to stay, then figure out how to enter the castle where the king lived-the Red Keep.

Ugh, the guards gave us trouble just getting into King's Landing. Getting into the Red Keep will probably be another difficult challenge.

Leading his horse, Gary hurried away from the reeking slums. He and Arya walked through the narrow streets of King's Landing, looking for a suitable tavern or inn.

Suddenly, a considerable commotion broke out inside an inn on a street corner. Someone seemed to be fighting.

Gary was not surprised. With King's Landing so filthy and chaotic, he imagined public order within the city could not be much better.

He wanted no part of it and was about to turn away from this trouble spot.

"You damned dwarf! Mary's my wife, and you dared to..."

Gary could not help looking back. A dwarf? Could it be... him?

He handed the reins to Arya. "I'll go take a look. Wait here for me a moment."

Arya had heard the commotion too. "Be careful, Luke," she cautioned.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine." Gary hung his hunting bow and quiver back on the saddle, took down Dark Sister and fastened it at his waist, then slowly approached the inn.

Clattering and crashing came from inside. Was someone smashing things?

Gary lifted the gauze curtain at the entrance and peered inside.

A blond dwarf was running back and forth in the nude. "Sir, please calm down. I didn't know she was married. This is a brothel! Who would have thought there would be..."

Opposite him stood a furious, powerfully built middle-aged man.

The man brandished a short sword, chasing the naked blond dwarf and slashing at him. "Don't make excuses! You've already fucked her! I'll kill you!"

Gary covered his face. It really is you, my favorite character-Tyrion Lannister.

A murder was about to take place inside, but the scantily clad women did not care. Seeing a visitor at the door, they immediately began posing seductively and baring their breasts.

Having just traveled all the way from Winterfell, with its simple, honest folk, Gary had never seen anything like this. He was instantly dumbfounded.

Ahem. Rich people really know how to have fun. I'm impressed.

Tyrion noticed Gary too. Seeing the sword he wore, he immediately cried for help. "Friend, give me a hand! I'm a Lannister! A Lannister always pays his debts!"

Gary stifled a laugh. Even without "a Lannister always pays his debts," he would have stepped in to save Tyrion. After all, this was his favorite character.

He collected himself and, feigning composure, passed through the sea of "heaving waves" before kicking the sword-wielding middle-aged man to the floor.

The middle-aged man was extremely sturdy, his body packed with muscle. Despite taking Gary's kick head-on, he merely rolled once across the floor before immediately getting back up.

Gary frowned inwardly. Something's wrong. This middle-aged man isn't a commoner. He's a trained fighter disguised as one.

Commoners barely have enough to eat or wear. How could one build muscles like those? Even if he were a hunter who ate meat at every meal, there's clearly something wrong with the way he moves!

Gary stopped holding back. In an instant, he closed in on the middle-aged man, his steps as swift as a phantom. While the man was still reeling in shock, he punched his sword hand.

"Aah!"

The middle-aged man screamed like a pig being slaughtered. The thumb and index finger of his right hand were badly bent, and his short sword fell to the floor.

Gary placed his right hand on Dark Sister's hilt. "Get out, or I'll cut you down!"

The man backed away a few steps in terror, cradling his injured right hand, then quickly fled the "inn."

Only after seeing the middle-aged man leave did Tyrion crawl out from under the table where he had been hiding. Wrapping the tablecloth around himself, he smiled at Gary. "My apologies. I'm in a bit of a sorry state. But don't worry, I really am a Lannister. Come with me in a little while, and I'll give you gold."

Gary folded his arms and leaned against the wall, looking at him with an amused expression. "I know. You're Tyrion Lannister. Hello, my name is Gary, and I come from the North. Well, you can also call me Luke. That's my other name."

"Yes, yes, all right. Wait while I get dressed." Tyrion turned to look for his clothes, then suddenly paused and looked back in astonishment. "You... white hair, different-colored eyes, and from the North... You're House Stark's White Wolf?!"

Gary's face darkened. He was still a virgin. How could he possibly be that particular stud? "I'm not Geralt. My name is Gary. You can also call me Luke."